


Take It Out On Me

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Established Relationship, Infidelity, Infidelity Kink, M/M, Possessive Sex, Roleplay, Romance, Sexual Roleplay, Top Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: Based on the TFLN prompt:He wants me to buy a wedding ring and pretend to be married to someone else when we fuck.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 119
Collections: Where Every Birthday is Bangin'





	Take It Out On Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherie_morte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/gifts).



> Written as a birthday present for my dearest **cherie_morte** from a prompt she tweeted FOUR YEARS AGO (according to when I first created the Google Doc!) and has probably forgotten about. Rise of the infidelity!kink ♥
> 
> Featuring art by the incomparable and amazing [quickreaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickreaver) ♥ ♥ Please go and leave her some love on her main post [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866024)!
> 
> _If it wasn't clear from the tags and the prompt, there is no actual infidelity in this story. It is consensual, sexual roleplay._

The night is charged with an invisible energy. Thunder in the distance, humid air pressing in from every side. When the rumble fades, Jared hears it: the grating crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. Heavy treads of a pickup truck rolling up outside the house.

Exhaustion falls away, leaving Jared wide awake, heart pressing against the inside of his ribcage until it begins to hurt. A shiver runs up his arms despite the lingering summer heat. 

Only one person would show up this late, and he never bothers to call first.

The unnatural brightness of headlights slant through the bedroom window and across Jared’s chest until they abruptly cut out along with the growl of a well-cared-for engine. Until now, he’d been drifting in and out of sleep, aware yet floating, in his large and empty bed. Slipping out from beneath the covers, Jared crosses to the window only to see a broad, shadowed figure steal by towards the front door.

Jared’s next breath catches in his lungs.

The doorbell never rings. Two soft knocks followed by another roll of thunder, and then Jared finds himself at the door, palm flat on the wood. Imagining he’s able to hear the slow, intent breathing from the other side. He curls his bare toes against the cool surface of the hardwood floor, shorts low on his hips and stretched-out t-shirt askew around his torso.

He has his doubts about opening the door. Naturally, because he knows what’s going to happen, the same way he knows he doesn’t have a choice. It may be a weakness, it may actually be a strength, but Jared knows he’s going to open the door.

Humid heat meets artificial cool, one man on either side of the threshold.

“I know it’s late.” Jensen’s voice is low, and Jared’s heart responds, drumming faster.

“You know I don’t mind,” is what Jared says. What he means is, “I don’t care, you’re supposed to be here.”

Jensen steps inside the front hall, light from the kitchen enough to make out the shadows beneath his eyes, half a week’s worth of stubble from his cheekbones down to his jaw that on any other man would make him appear haggard and worn. To Jared, he looks soft and needy.

“Want to talk about it?”

Jensen exhales through his nose, drops his chin. “Not unless you’ve still got some of that good bourbon sitting around.”

Jared nods. He stocks the stuff solely for Jensen, preferring his own curated wine collection for himself.

He keeps the lights low, afraid too much will break the fragile calm. Jared grabs a gold-labeled bottle from behind the wet bar while Jensen selects a glass tumbler from the shelf above. One look at Jared and he pulls down a second glass. Jared wouldn’t normally drink the strong stuff; it looks like he’ll be making an exception tonight.

Rather than settling on one of the stools or turning towards the long, leather couch in the next room, Jensen remains standing, fingers tapping a beat against the side of his glass. Jared can’t tear his gaze away as Jensen takes a nervous sip, closing his eyes as the bourbon hits his tongue and undoubtedly warms the back of his throat. 

Jensen’s black jeans are slightly rumpled, hastily pulled from where he’d tossed them over the back of a chair, perhaps. His plaid shirt is unbuttoned, thrown on in a hurry, giving Jared a view of the soft gray t-shirt beneath. Now that Jared can actually see him, it’s easy to read the emotions on his face, barely contained in the bright, lightning flash of his eyes as they dart between Jared and the bottle of bourbon. Sweat at his temples and above the curve of his upper lip, the familiar furrow of his brow etched even deeper tonight.

Thunder breaks through the silence. Closer now, echoing the storm in Jared’s mind.

“What happened?” Jared asks, unable to keep it bottled up.

Jensen sighs as if he knew the question was coming. “He won’t talk to me,” he says, stepping carefully around a name. “Comes home late, won’t tell me where he’s been.”

Jared takes it in, keeps his anger at a steady simmer. He knows there’s more. “That’s not the worst part, is it?”

Another flash in Jensen’s eyes as he looks over. “No. He’s just—it’s like he doesn’t care if I’m there at all. As if nothing I do matters to him, anymore. He only wants one thing from me—”

He stumbles over the words, and Jared wants to reach out. Not yet. He aches for Jensen, the pain in the man’s voice hitting him square in the chest.

Jensen laughs, the sound completely without humor. “And even then, I don’t think he cares that he’s with _me_. I’m just…”

Jared is relieved when Jensen trails off, unable to finish his thought. “You deserve better.”

“Jared—”

“Don’t,” he warns, steel in his voice. “You’re not allowed to argue with me on this.”

Silence again as they stare at one another. Jensen is the first to slide his gaze to the side, clutching the glass tumbler in his hands. Nerves begin to show as he _tap-taps_ with his fingers, dull sounds until Jared hears the unmistakable _clink_ of metal on glass.

They both freeze; Jared’s entire focus narrows on the spot where the base of Jensen’s ring finger touches the glass. A band of gold he was trying not to acknowledge. Jensen sees his expression and _knows_. How can he not?

Jensen does it again.

Jared shivers, palms sweating as the sound triggers a rush of arousal. He should be appalled by his reaction. This isn't what Jensen _needs_. Even as he thinks it, however, the larger part of his mind acknowledges that this was inevitable.

Embarrassed by his Pavlovian response, Jared takes a step back. Jensen, sensing turmoil, presses his advantage. “He’s using me, Jared. Maybe it’s the stress, but when we’re together, he takes it out on me. It used to be so good—”

“Jen, please.” Jared isn’t sure if he’s pleading for Jensen to stop, or for him to continue feeding the beast within.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Jensen asks, moving into Jared’s personal space.

“Nothing,” Jared insists. “If he can’t see that…”

Jensen smiles for the first time since Jared opened his door. It’s a slanted, dangerous thing.

“What should he see, Jay?”

It’s all there on the tip of Jared’s tongue, the many ways in which Jensen is the only _right_ thing in his life. He swallows them along with some liquid courage from the glass in his hand. It burns on the way down.

Jensen isn’t fazed by Jared’s lack of response. He takes another sip; Jared watches him twist his hand so that the gold band reflects the low light. He can’t accuse Jensen of doing it intentionally, but there’s no way Jensen misses the way Jared’s empty fist clenches after each flash.

Jared takes a step back. This close to Jensen, he can’t think.

Jensen’s gaze goes dark. “You must think I’m awful,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “Coming here so late, making you listen to my problems.”

“I want you here,” Jared growls, immediately regretting his tone when Jensen looks up, eyes wide. “I mean, you know I want to be here for you, no matter what. If he’s pissed you off—”

“It’s more than that,” Jensen insists. “I’m pissed that he ignores me until I’m convenient for him. How am I supposed to go back knowing that it’s going to keep happening?” He sighs. “I never thought we’d end up like this.”

Abandoning his now-empty tumbler, Jensen fidgets with the ring around his finger. Jared wants to reach out, comfort through touch; he’s afraid the metal will shock him.

“Maybe...maybe I deserve this.”

A chill runs through Jared. “No, Jen. You don’t mean—”

“Can’t you see it though? It’s my fault, all of it.”

“Not in a million years.”

Jensen presses, more emotion in his eyes than Jared’s seen since he walked through the front door. “I must have done something to make him stop loving me.”

Later, Jared won’t remember what in particular made him break. It could have been the word ‘love’ on Jensen’s lips, or the way his eyes were begging for something Jared couldn’t name. It could have been the way Jensen pulled his gold ring over his middle knuckle like it suddenly burned his skin.

All he’ll remember is that he couldn’t take any more.

“If he could stop loving you, then he never deserved you in the first place!”

Whatever Jensen was going to say next to disparage himself, it never leaves his tongue. Jared fights the urge to flee, doesn’t know what to make of the way Jensen’s looking at him. Shock tempered by satisfaction. Like he was waiting to hear those very words.

Jared figures he’s going crazy. Something’s wrong with him if half a glass of bourbon and a few emotions could make him reveal his deepest secret. “I mean…”

“Don’t—” Jensen looks down, and Jared wonders if he really saw a tear in his eye or if he imagined it. “Just don’t, Jared.”

In his mind, they’ve come to this impasse a dozen times. In his mind, Jared almost always does the right thing. He apologizes and sends Jensen home. He tells Jensen to forget what he said, and they go on as they always have.

But sometimes, Jared’s too tired to do the right thing. Only in the safety of his mind, he lets himself be selfish. Now that he’s really here, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“You probably want to leave. You came here to talk—” Jensen scoffs, but Jared needs to say this. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Don’t play noble with me tonight, Jared.” Jensen stalks towards him, left hand brandishing the ring like a weapon. “You know why you always let me in.”

Of course he knows. It’s more than simply taking what he can get from Jensen. People are wrong when they say, ‘something is better than nothing.’ He wants to be the white knight. What he doesn’t know is whether he’s supposed to save Jensen by making him _feel_ again—give him the love that’s missing—or let Jensen dirty him up, both of them down in the mud.

Sin lies in both directions.

“I’m here now,” Jensen whispers like anything louder would spook Jared. “What are you going to do about it?”

A spark glinting off the gold band lights a fire in Jared’s chest. He’s through with denial, sick of fighting this every time Jensen shows up in the middle of the night searching for something to fill the void that Jared has sensed growing deeper and more desperate each time. He catches Jensen’s wrist in his left hand as he goes to reach out, wedding band on display.

“I’m gonna show you,” Jared says, voice dropping to a deep rumble.

With his free hand, Jensen carefully takes the tumbler from Jared’s grip and sets it behind him on the counter. “Show me what, Jared?”

An inch at a time, Jared uses his hold on Jensen’s wrist to pull him closer. There’s no resistance, only the slow march leaving caution and responsibility behind.

“I’m gonna show you why he doesn’t deserve you.” He watches the way Jensen reacts to the words: lips parted around a shaky exhale, flush cutting in across his cheekbones, green eyes reflecting gold. And Jared can’t hide his own response, the way his pulse surges with arousal, the heat making his palms sweat. He feels a momentary stab of shame—like cold water poured down his spine—fighting the idea that he could be this turned on by Jensen’s hurt and confusion, before it’s dragged beneath the rising swell of desire.

“I want you to remember what it’s supposed to feel like,” Jared goes on, words gently cutting, “when it’s someone who wants everything from you, not just your body.”

Jensen leans in. “We shouldn’t—”

Jared can’t have him hitting the brakes now. “You made your decision when you walked into this house. And you don’t really care about should or shouldn’t anymore, do you?” He purrs the last words directly against Jensen’s mouth.

Their lips brush as Jensen shakes his head.

“Let me show you.” They’re too close, past the point of no return. “Let me show you why that son of a bitch doesn’t deserve you.”

He feels a breathy little gasp pass Jensen’s lips; it’s one of the sexiest sounds Jared has ever heard. Jensen is waiting for him to make the next move. All of his fantasies—his late-night selfish imaginings and white-knight visions—have carried him here, and he knows what Jensen needs. Knows him better than anyone else, including the unworthy man who put that ring on his finger.

The kiss is impulsive, yet somehow it feels long overdue at the same time. It sweeps past tentative almost immediately, neither of them willing to waste time feigning shyness or disbelief. The night was always going to end up here, no matter what was said. Jensen is the first to slip his tongue across the divide, acclimating himself to the heat of Jared’s mouth before curling around Jared’s tongue. Jared pushes back, tickling the roof of Jensen’s mouth and sliding oh-so-sensuously back and forth.

Once they get their hands on one another, matters escalate quickly. Jensen’s plaid shirt hits the floor and Jared feels his loose T-shirt being shoved up his chest. The kiss breaks long enough for Jared to catch the hungry glint in Jensen’s eyes for a second before the shirt is yanked over his head. Jensen is back in his space as soon as it’s gone, lips carrying the sharpness of the bourbon, caramel on his breath. Sweet and intoxicating, yet packing a punch, not unlike Jensen himself, Jared reflects, as what little alcohol he’d consumed rushes through his body. If not for the anchor of Jensen’s hands at his hips, Jared might float away on pure sensation.

Lightning strikes in his periphery, a flash that touches everything Jared has ever wanted. The light reflects in the facets of Jensen’s eyes and cuts across his cheekbones. As the thunder hits—closer now than when Jared woke up—he strips Jensen out of his short-sleeve shirt and surges forward until they are chest-to-chest.

Jared has envisioned this moment dozens of times in his fantasies: a tipping point between satisfaction and disaster.

Jensen is tilting his chin for another kiss when Jared stops him with a whisper. “There’s no going back after this, Jensen,” he confesses. “I won’t be able to let you walk away.”

The honesty could be his undoing. It could be what scares Jensen into pumping the brakes and bringing all this to a screeching halt. Jared’s chest is heaving even as he tries to project a steady calm, letting his fingers hook into Jensen’s belt loops. The denim strips are one good tug away from fraying completely; if Jared pulls too hard, the threads will snap.

Jensen doesn’t move away. “You said you would show me,” he says breathlessly, reminding Jared of his own words from moments ago. “I want to feel that...all of it.”

Triumph wells in his chest. Between that pressure and the force of Jensen’s lips on his, Jared struggles for each breath. As they push and pull their way back to the bedroom, he can’t help comparing fantasy to reality. Jared thought Jensen might shrink beneath the creeping shadow of infidelity, the knowledge that he was here instead of safe at home. Yet Jensen doesn't crumble under Jared’s touch. Instead, he demands more with confident hands and a greedy mouth. Jared is the one who’s overwhelmed, cock hard in his shorts and stumbling over his own feet as they crash into the bedroom. He hits the edge of the bed, losing his grip on Jensen’s body as he tumbles backwards and lands face-up with Jensen standing over him.

In the pause that follows, Jared soaks in every detail. Slowly, Jensen drops his hands to his jeans and undoes the button, dragging the zipper down carefully. He’s illuminated by intermittent flashes as the storm rolls overhead. Light cuts through the blinds, the way Jensen’s headlights had done earlier, and Jared’s eyes are again drawn to the glint of gold around Jensen’s finger.

This is his chance to show Jensen what it’s like to be loved by someone who would never take him for granted.

“I’m here,” he says, reaching up. “I only want you, Jensen.”

“Fuck, Jared—” are the only words that make it past Jensen’s lips before he kneels on the bed and falls against Jared’s chest.

This kiss devours all doubt, leaves no room for second-guessing. Jensen’s cock is hard and demanding attention through his jeans; Jared is eager to get his hands on it and drive Jensen crazy. They thrust against one another with Jared setting the pace as he arches his back and rolls his hips, letting Jensen ride into the teasing friction. Jared’s hands are relentless, roaming bare skin like nomads in search of shelter. He has the urge to map every inch as if the texture holds the secrets to who Jensen really is.

Down the middle of Jensen’s back, over the shallow curve at his waist, Jared’s fingers dance along the denim barrier keeping the rest of Jensen’s body from him. Shifting his mouth to the rougher stubble beneath Jensen’s jaw, Jared slips his hands down the back of Jensen’s jeans and scales the swell of his ass, lust burning hotter than the electricity in the sky when he discovers nothing between Jensen’s pants and bare skin.

Jensen must have been in a rush when he left. Did he question what he was doing at all on the way over to Jared’s house? Or did he know, as Jared did, that walking through the door would lead to one and only outcome?

The questions dissolve seconds after they form as Jensen pushes into Jared’s touch. Jared’s fingers slip between Jensen’s cheeks, middle finger reaching his hole first, hot and inviting. He could press the advantage he already has—Jensen writhing half-naked on top of him—but he’s afraid of any misstep or assumption that might pull Jensen from his bed. Jared won’t take _too much_.

Against Jensen’s lips, he asks, “What do you want?” He squeezes Jensen’s ass firmly as he emphasizes his next questions. “What do you _need_?”

_What is he not giving you?_ Jared wants to growl out loud, smothering that urge with Jensen’s mouth covering his own.

Jared’s own wants are infinite. For years, he’s wanted Jensen in almost every way imaginable. Tonight, he would eagerly submit or dominate, bare himself or take roughly. Jared would bruise his own knees on the hardwood floor, sacrifice his own voice so Jensen could fuck his throat, but he would also tease Jensen for hours, open him up with endless patience and wear himself out for the sake of Jensen’s pleasure.

Lost in his desires, he doesn’t realize Jensen has broken the kiss to gaze down at Jared until he hums, a deep vibration that shoots straight down Jared’s body, and says, “I need to be inside you, Jared. It’s been too long since I enjoyed a long, hard fuck.”

Jensen punctuates the last three words with light nips along Jared’s jaw. All of Jared’s thoughts evaporate leaving only one scenario; the idea is so hot, his eyes nearly roll back in his head.

“Yes, Fuck yes, Jensen.”

As if Jared’s curse is the starter’s pistol, they spring into motion, rolling and stripping as quickly as possible without letting go of one another. Once they’re both naked, Jared laments not being able to devote more time savoring the sight of freckled skin over smooth muscles. The temperature is climbing too fast for any more distractions to slow them down.

There’s a bottle of lube in the bedside drawer and Jared drops it on the bed beside Jensen’s elbow. It takes Jensen a few seconds to prop himself up against Jared’s pillows before Jared flings himself across Jensen’s lap in a messy sprawl. Jared licks his lips at the thought of Jensen’s cock imminently splitting them open.

No teasing, just a warm mouthful of hard, veined flesh. Jared pushes through the initial stretch and discomfort until he’s sucking Jensen off nice and slow, going deep on nearly every thrust. From the way Jensen reacts to the blowjob, it doesn’t seem like he’s gotten to enjoy this for a while. Which is a shame, because his cock is gorgeous and practically sculpted for the depth and curve of Jared’s throat.

The fingers circling his rim take Jared by surprise. His senses were completely consumed by the thorough blowjob that he failed to notice Jensen lubing his fingers up. It’s a reach, so Jared shifts closer, allowing Jensen to press in with the first finger.

The combination of sucking and being fingered open at the same time nearly leads to a white-out in Jared’s mind. He lets Jensen’s cock slip out of his mouth with a high-pitched whine, disappointed. Fortunately Jensen knows just what to do. He holds his cock steady at the base with his left hand, glistening tip pointed directly at Jared’s lips. In this new position, he can feed Jared his cock and his fingers simultaneously, muttering a string of filthy praises while he fills Jared at both ends.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Jensen asks. Jared can’t bring himself to look up and see whatever expression is on his best friend’s face. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”

Jared groans out his need, sinking a little further down. His jaw throbs, yet it feels amazing. His lips hit skin-warmed metal, and suddenly he’s harder than he ever thought possible.

Jensen is _here_ with him, giving him everything. The intensity shocks him, turns him into a shameless, eager mess. He fucks himself back and forth, allowing his teeth to graze against the gold ring. There are three fingers now stretching his rim. Jared doesn’t need much preparation; he’s no stranger to penetration and he’s too desperate to let Jensen draw this out for too long.

“Fuck me, Jensen,” he mutters when his mouth is empty again.

“Jared—”

That tone of voice worries Jared, so he presses on. “Let me do this for you. Show you what you could have.”

As he’s gasping for his next breath, the fingers are gone and he’s being flipped onto his back. Jensen’s show of strength would be ridiculously arousing if Jared wasn’t at critical levels already. He blinks once and Jensen is suddenly above him, gazing down at Jared with dark eyes as he drags his cock along Jared’s inner thigh. There’s a flash of lightning, the rumble of thunder almost immediately following. Jared tries to adjust to the light, but it’s gone too soon.

As he goes to spread his legs in invitation, he’s stopped by Jensen’s hands. 

“We’re gonna do this my way. Because I’ve been thinking about this too,” Jensen admits.

The lightning must have left a charge in the air. It feels as if there are sparks dancing across Jared’s skin.

Or maybe it’s the effect of Jensen’s voice. “I know I shouldn’t think about you like this, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Jensen straddles Jared’s right leg while pushing his left up and back, leaving him in a wide, wanton spread as Jensen pushes into him. There’s a brief dose of pain as Jensen’s girth tests the limits of Jared’s ass, but that’s soon drowned out by the bliss of being full.

It’s a slow, languid fucking at first as their bodies adjust to one another. Jensen sets the pace until Jared grows impatient, his cock remaining hard throughout penetration. Jared wraps his right hand around the back of Jensen’s thigh that’s closest to him, feeling the flex and stretch of his muscles as he thrusts fluidly. Using that grip, he encourages Jensen to go faster, take _more_.

Jensen repositions his knees on the bed for more leverage and drops his left hand onto Jared’s chest, bringing their faces closer together. Even without the white-hot lightning in the room, Jared is able to read the way Jensen is looking at him—he sees every emotion he’s feeling reflected back.

He’ll never be able to let Jensen go after this.

The gold band burns his skin, and when Jared arches into the touch, Jensen drags his ring finger across Jared’s nipple. Back and forth, back and forth with solid pressure. Jared can’t believe he’s this close to coming already. Then again, he’s been toeing the edge since he began salivating at the _tap-tap-tap_ of Jensen’s ring finger on the glass of bourbon.

“Is this what you needed?” Jared asks in a broken whisper.

“Oh my god, yes,” Jensen hisses. “You feel so good.”

“Is it better?”

“Jared…” That strained tone again. Jensen’s hips falter in their rhythm, but Jared presses on.

“Am I better than him?”

“ _Fuck_.” Jensen’s thrusts are wild, but he manages to nail Jared’s prostate over and over. Jared wants Jensen to mark him inside and out. Lay his claim so that it becomes impossible for him to walk away from Jared when the storm is over.

With a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck, Jared drags Jensen’s mouth down to his as he’s coming, biting into plush lips to muffle his own cries. He shudders and clenches around Jensen’s cock as his orgasm crests.

Jensen breaks away from the kiss and curses, staring down between their bodies at the pale splatters of Jared’s semen on their stomachs. With more care and gentleness than either of them have shown all night, he pulls out of Jared and begins stroking himself.

As Jared watches the engorged, red head of Jensen’s cock appear and disappear within the circles of Jensen’s fist, gold ring moving up and down his cock, he rocks his thigh against Jensen’s heavy balls, urging him on.

Jensen’s come mixing with Jared’s feels like a statement, more meaningful than words.

Still panting from the exertion, Jensen falls forward onto Jared’s chest. Their arms wrap around each other, mouths seeking the other out.

It’s too amazing. It’s _too much_.

“Please tell me you’ll stay,” Jared begs without thinking. “Please tell me I’m enough.”

Jensen immediately backs off and looks down. “Hey, it’s okay…”

The sight of the ring on Jensen’s finger as he reaches up to cup Jared’s face sends him tumbling over an emotional cliff. He’s overwhelmed once more, and not in a good way. Pushing Jensen to the side, he scrambles off the bed and darts into the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door on Jensen’s worried repetitions of his name.

#~#~#~#~#

Jensen flinches as the bathroom door is pulled shut. Despite the post-coital languor weighing down his limbs, he forces himself up and off the bed, shimmying into his discarded jeans and drawing them up over his sensitive dick.

He approaches the bathroom door carefully, listening for any sound coming from within. He goes to knock and notices the gold band still on his finger: a cheap, plated ring from a big-box store that he’d picked up last week. Jensen yanks it off and tosses it in the direction of the nightstand before rapping lightly on the door.

When Jared first came up with this roleplaying idea, Jensen had recoiled. The two of them had been experimenting more and more in the bedroom lately, uncovering deeper wants and desires as their relationship entered a new phase of intimacy. But pretending they hadn’t been together for nearly a year, that Jensen belonged to someone else, was almost unthinkable. It took weeks for Jared to convince him to buy the cheap metal band and put this fantasy into motion. 

Up until a few minutes ago, Jensen thought it was going really well. Jared’s possessiveness turned him on more than he ever thought possible, reinforcing Jensen’s belief that Jared was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Their need for one another was charged and insanely hot, which lent another layer to the scene they just finished.

Jared running away from him wasn’t anywhere in the script.

“Jared…” he says, leaning against the door, “are you okay?”

It takes a moment, but he finally hears Jared’s reply. “I’ll be fine.”

Jensen frowns. “Will you let me in so I can make sure?” He’s surprised yet grateful when the door opens and Jared emerges with a pair of rumpled pajama pants sitting low on his hips. He must have pulled them from the bathroom laundry hamper. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shining as he meets Jensen’s eyes.

Robbed of words, he pulls Jared into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Jared mutters into his shoulder, “it was too much.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I wanted this and I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle the thought of you with someone else.”

Jensen’s heart swells and aches at the same time. His emotions have been all over the place tonight. From the moment he left his apartment, to sipping whiskey in Jared’s kitchen, to the mind-blowing sex, all Jensen could think about was how amazing Jared was. His last few boyfriends couldn’t even compare.

He knew tonight wasn’t about the possibility of one of them cheating in the future. Jensen could see beyond that. He can feel the commitment between them; tonight just solidified the bond. He hopes Jared feels the same way.

“I’m yours,” he promises, unwilling to release Jared from his embrace. “I’m already yours. Please don’t let me go.”

His words seem to anchor Jared back to reality. The hug is returned and Jensen relaxes into strong arms. They remain standing for a few minutes until Jared starts shuffling back towards the bed.

“Fuck, Jensen...I never thought it would be that intense,” Jared admits once they’re horizontal again, loosely wrapped up with one another. 

“Me neither.”

“What you said about _him_ ,” Jared continues hesitantly, “that had nothing to do with us, right?”

Jensen invades Jared’s space for a brief, yet insistent kiss before he responds. “Of course not. I might have drawn on some of my worst experiences with my exes...you could _never_ be that distant or uncaring, Jared. I swear.”

“I would never treat you that way,” Jared tells him, calmness coming back into his eyes, “and nothing could make me stop loving you.”

Jensen lets those words roll over him and finally lets go of slivers of doubt that formed when Jared bolted. Outside, the storm moves on, the distant rumble of thunder the only sign that it had ever been there.

FIN.


End file.
